Better Than Me
by TheSilentPen
Summary: "Rachel can do so much better..." Drunk and lost, Maria Arioso attempts to reconcile her religion with her feelings for her best friend, Rachel Berry. Takes place a year before 'Just A Kiss.' Slight hints of Faberry.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee or any of its characters. I do, however, own Miss Maria Arioso.

**A/N:** Someone asked for the scene where Maria and Rachel kiss. This is that scene. But I'm going to warn you now, this isn't happy. I'd say it's more a mixture… angsty, hurt comfort with a big dollop of bittersweet Maria/Rachel friendship/unrequited love, Faberry, and Maria matchmaker on top. I hope you enjoy and please DO review. I'd be most grateful :)

* * *

**Better Than Me**

TheSilentPen

* * *

Alcohol burned.

It burned, it seared, and it bit against Maria Arioso's tongue as she tipped back another liberal chug of whiskey, tears welling in the corner of her eyes, synapses warming.

The pounding bass of the music played through her bones as she leaned against a wall, watching the faceless crowd (maybe it was the haziness from the alcohol… she didn't know how much she'd had to drink tonight) gyrate against one another. The air stale with sweat, sex, and the pungent sharpness of the unknown drinks.

She watched dispassionately as boys sloshed their drinks down their fronts as they stumbled drunkenly after their conquests. Girls played flirtatiously with boys, wrapping them about their fingers and playing them like a violin.

She watched the slow grind of hips against each other, the press of mouths clashing messily together, teeth clacking noiselessly against each other.

Maria saw it all. Saw and felt how her eyes were drawn to the sharp musculature of boys' arms, to the rugged handsomeness of their young faces, and the low rumble of their voices.

She saw it and it stirred something low in her belly. Something low, familiar, and comforting. Something she'd reveled in when she was a young, sweet girl of fifteen new to high school and on using her looks to garner the attention of whatever young man came her way.

That was expected.

Accepted.

…Whatever _else_ she felt _wasn't_.

It wasn't expected _or_ accepted for her to feel drawn to the feminine swell and curve of a woman's chest, or feel the urge to touch or _kiss_ lips that were full, red, and _soft_, or shiver when those lips were pressed to her ear and a low, melodious voice slowly poisoned her blood.

She shouldn't have felt attracted to everything that men _weren't_.

She shouldn't have been attracted to women.

The heaviness of the cross about her neck and the bite of its metal chain against her neck were a healthy reminder of that.

It was a sort of leash that stopped her from staring too long at something she _shouldn't_ admire. Her eyes would wander and then the coolness of the necklace, the beat of it against her breastbone, would made her stop and evaluate her actions. Made her want to see down and say her prayers of forgiveness for letting her eyes stray where they were _too long_.

But it was hard to fight temptation.

Especially when it was presented to her daily in the form of her best friend.

Rachel Berry. Kind, smiling, melancholy, and quiet Rachel Berry.

Maria couldn't remember life _before_ Rachel came into it as a stumbling, awkward, sad twelve year old wearing plaid skirts, animal sweaters, Mary Janes, broken over the newly signed divorce of her fathers.

Rachel hadn't been easy to befriend. She hid inside her Father's (Hiram's) house until she had to go to school, dance, or her singing lessons. If Rachel ever _did_ come outside, she made sure that Maria had been consigned to her home.

Maria would press her hands against the window and watch the little girl across the way stare aimlessly into the sky, her mouth moving, silenced by the glass, to some unknown song.

A song Maria hadn't dared to hear until a month after Rachel moved in, when she cracked the window open ever so slightly to catch even a _note_ of the sad girl's voice.

And what a voice it was.

A slow, soft mezzo soprano, beautiful, mature, and powerful in its gentleness. It hovered fragilely on the winds, quivering as Rachel sustained it with a gentle push from her throat.

"_Dude, he even loved you while the hammer fell, mark'd him where the bolt of cupid dwell… 'twas an imprint he made upon his skin… He still blushes thinks of it again…"_

The singer closed her eyes before continuing on. "_He loves me, he loves me not, the paper says it's over but he forgot. The tattoo… He loves me he loves me not, pull petals off and watch them rot…"_

There was a slight quiver in the voice and as the sound died and the young girl buried her face in her hands, trembling. Soft, translucent pearls fell from between the curves of her fingers.

Rachel cried.

…Maria cried with her.

A slow friendship built between them after Maria extended her hand to the girl across the street. They began to talk a little more, confide in each other, lean on each other.

And Maria allowed it. Relished it.

_Loved_ it.

It was sometime after they'd turned fourteen when she realized just _how_ much.

Rachel had gone away from San Diego for the summer to study up at ISOMATA.

Rachel was no longer there to support her. Rachel was no longer there for _her _to support.

Maria's heart ached. It ached and tore and crawled from her chest, desperate to start on the road up the mountain just to _see_ Rachel again.

Every time she went somewhere that was _theirs…_ the dance studio, that rickety old table in the old park downhill from where they lived, or the Hawaiian barbecue… every time she went, it _ached_. It _pounded_ and _demanded_ attention.

She shouldn't have felt that way.

But she did.

And it only got worse.

It only got worse when Rachel came back at the start of the school year, smiling, tan, with wavy, sun bleached brown hair and the _first_ really content smile on her lips after years of fighting the shadows of her fragmented memory.

It only got worse when Rachel parted her lips for the first time since she'd left and her voice wandered forth from that _perfect_ throat, slightly deepened and more melodic than ever before. When she spoke she _sang_ and Rachel's words had become a sort of a song in and of itself.

And it only got worse when Maria began to _notice_ things.

The way the muscles in Rachel's legs flexed powerfully against one another during dance class. The dark, reddish tint her eyes took on when angered. The small smiles that spread across her lips when Maria said something witty.

The burning clench low in her belly when her eyes skimmed over legs that were _incredibly long_ for someone of Rachel's modest height, over the small sliver of skin that often appeared when Rachel's top road up a little too high, and over the softness of full, glossy lips.

It was something that _shouldn't have been_.

And now here she was, at this _stupid_ party, watching Rachel, _her_ Rachel crane her neck up to stare at that _asshole_ ex of hers Brody as he attempted to 'work his magic' on her.

She gritted her teeth as Brody's large, sausage-like fingers played down Rachel's arm, sloshing back another burning gulp of alcohol. She smirked as Rachel's eyes turned dark and a firm, delicate hand pushed the ape's away.

'_That oughtta show that asshole_,' she laughed internally as Brody stumbled drunkenly after Rachel as she ghosted her way through the crowd.

Brody had been the latest catch in the long line of assholes that Rachel dated over the last several years, since the start of their eighth grade year of middle school.

Rachel was such a kind, generous person to those in her life (with the choice exception of a few asshats that wronged her over the last few years in high school). Someone could probably bitch slap the hell out of her and Rachel Berry would turn a cheek and smile at that person before offering them some cookies and the shirt off her back.

It was strange then, that such a nice person could date so many fucking idiots.

Maria sat by, gritted her teeth, and winced whilst dunce after dunce wronged her best friend and got sent hauling out on his ass with his honor barely intact (Maria made _sure_ they wouldn't have much of their dignity left, it was, after all, her duty as best friend… at least, that's what she told herself) and Rachel was left broken apart.

And each and every fucking time, Maria was left to clean up the pieces and stitch her back together again.

It sucked, because Maria _knew_ there could be someone so much better for Rachel…

…_That __**she**__ could be so much better for Rachel_.

She chuckled. God, how could she be _punished_ this way? How could he have let her be so _disgusting?_

Sure, she hadn't been the _best_ Catholic in the entire world, but she thought she'd been pretty goddamn decent.

She'd said her prayers. Knew her ten commandments and did her best to follow them (although she couldn't resist the opportunity to knock some heads if someone deserved it). Wore her crucifix religiously and went to church as often as she could.

Maria Arioso was decent person.

She didn't know what she'd done to deserve this.

Her head slid back to bump against the wall as she stared at the ceiling, eyes closed, hand trembling around her cup.

God, she tried _so hard_…

Tried so hard to be a good Catholic. To be a good friend and daughter.

But she wasn't.

She was a fucking screw up. A disappointment who...

A choked whimper left her throat and her brow furrowed.

'_…Who'll screw up everything because she loves her fucking best friend_.' She raised her cup to her lips and reveled in the slight sting of the alcohol against her throat.

"Drinking a little too much there, aren't we, M?" A soft, teasing, and warm voice fell across her ears.

'_Speak of the fucking devil…'_ Blue eyes opened to meet melted, twinkling chocolate.

"Fuck off," she murmured, glaring at a smiling Rachel Berry as she took another sip of the biting liquor.

"I'll take that as a yes," Rachel chuckled before reaching forward and gently prying the cup from Maria's fingers. "Must've had a stressful day today. You're _never_ in angry drunk mode unless you were brooding over something before you got smacked."

"…Maybe 'm just an angry drunk," Maria slurred, before reaching for the cup again. "Gimme… fucking booze …Can handle myself."

"No, I will _not_ give you the booze," Rachel lifted the cup out of the way. "You know as well as I do that Maria Arioso is not a stereotypical drunk. Something's eating you and making you go angry drunk. What's wrong, M?"

"Nothing," Maria said curtly. "…nothin' 'fore… took away m'goddamned drink. Give 't me."

"You really are wasted," Rachel muttered, before placing the cup on the nearby table and hoisting one of Maria's arms over her shoulder. "Come on, we're leaving. You've had enough alcohol for tonight."

"Fuck you."

Rachel laughed, eyes lightening. "We seem to like that expletive tonight, huh? …Come on, you Irish lush. Let's head to my place."

* * *

"Let's get you settled down on the bed and get you a set of pajamas, hmm?"

Maria stumbled as the warm shoulder beneath her own dislodged itself. She walked unsteadily across the small room, falling onto the bed and burying her face in the warm, flannel comforter.

She inhaled deeply, clenching her fist into the fabric and letting the scent carry away a bit of her drunken haze. She nestled into it, feeling the warmth of the material seep into the chilled, sweat ridden surface of her skin

Crushed cinnamon with just the slightest hint of vanilla.

A scent that had become so comforting and so familiar over the last four years…

A scent she'd come to love.

A scent she'd come to _loathe_.

It represented everything she was _not_ supposed to feel. This affection… this pestilence that burned bright in her chest and refused to be extinguished.

This flame (God, she hated to call the goddamned thing such a clichéd name, but she could hardly think of it as anything else) of love that ate away at her very existence.

This _stupid_, _infantile_, _sick_ adoration.

She ran her fingers over the soft flannel…

And this bed…

On this bed, she'd soothed away Rachel's tears after nightmares and after those idiot boyfriends broke her heart. On this bed, she and Rachel had their first sleepover and lived through four first days of school. On this bed, she'd felt her _own_ heart break listening to Rachel fawn over undeserving creeps with IQs less than one while she _knew_ there were others _so much better_.

Everything in this fucking room was her enemy.

Everything in this fucking room represented what she loathed…

…And what she loved.

She felt the weakest of sobs leave her throat as she struggled to lift herself from the bed, feeling the coolness of her cross against her breastbone as she closed her eyes, gritting her teeth.

Because no matter how much she felt that all these emotions were a mistake… no matter how much she fought to keep everything bottled up inside, she would always hold those things close to her heart.

Rachel Berry would never be _just a friend_.

Maria would never escape her.

God, she wished she had more liquor to sink back…

…Just a little more to make things hazy. To blame everything she felt on the fucking alcohol.

Because at least then she could have a break from blaming _herself_.

The slight creak of the door made Maria flinch as she pulled herself onto her back, laying against the mound of cushions at the head of the bed.

Through the haze of alcohol, Maria saw Rachel's fuzzy crack the door open the slightest bit, sticking her head in to assess the 'patient' on the bed. A slow smile played across the corners of Rachel's lips as she timidly opened the door a bit wider.

"Hey, thought you'd be knocked out by the time I got back," Rachel's voice was rich and soft against her ear.

"Might be boozed out but I'm not some lightweight like you," Maria groaned as she fought to pull herself up into a sitting position, muscles loose and uncooperative.

"See you've got a little bit of your sanity back, hmm?" Rachel stepped into the room further, a bundle of clothes rolled under her right arm.

"Fuck off," Maria snarked.

"But not enough sanity, I guess," Rachel tsked as she moved to take a seat on the bed beside her friend.

The bed dipped slightly as Rachel took a seat next to Maria. Tanned fingers grasped milky white digits in their own, pulling them into Rachel's lap. They clashed against the red plaid fabric of Rachel's pajama pants where they took residence. A guitar callused thumb playing against the pale back of Maria's hand.

Brown eyes locked on to hesitant blue as the smile disappeared about the corners of Rachel's lips, replaced by a gentle crease of the slightest concern.

"What's going on tonight, Maria?" Rachel's voice gentled to a soft, melodic crawl. "You never act so grumpy when you drink and you're never alone during parties. You were off in a corner tonight and you told me to fuck off… something's wrong."

Maria shook her head, trying to pull her hand away. Rachel's touch _burned_ her. "There's nothing wro-."

"Don't feed me that bullshit," Rachel's voice cut through Maria's bumbling explanation as she gripped Maria's hand tighter. The slightest hint of crimson entered Rachel's steely eyes. "Don't tell me nothing is wrong, M. We've known each other for four years, we know when something's wrong in each other's lives.

"You've been off all week, M…" Rachel swallowed heavily before continuing. "You've been distant, you haven't been as sarcastic as usual, you won't talk to me about anything, and you haven't come over for dinner in weeks.

"We've always asked each other to be honest," Rachel put a hand to Maria's shoulder, desperation marked in her eyes. "I've always tried honest with you, Maria. So please…" She shook Maria pleadingly. "_Please_ be honest with me."

The words were lost in Maria's throat as she fought to say _something_, _anything_ to give reasons _why_. To tell her that she'd been so distant because she'd discovered she'd liked looking at both _men_ and _women_. To explain why she couldn't be _alone_ with Rachel or face her because Maria realized she might do something they _both_ might regret.

Because if she didn't stay away she might end up _destroying _their friendship.

For once in her life, Maria didn't have an answer. Couldn't _give_ her friend an answer because _that_ answer **would** destroy their friendship.

She had to keep quiet. She _needed_ to keep quiet.

But Maria could tell that wasn't going to happen.

Because Rachel Berry… God, Rachel Berry, her best friend, was sitting there looking beautiful in that annoying as fuck 'Choir Geek' t-shirt Maria'd bought her last year and a pair of pajama pants. She sat there with her dark hair wavy and her tanned features devoid of any sort of makeup. She sat there holding Maria's hand and _heart_ in those guitar-callused, strong, yet gentle fingers.

Rachel Berry, her _greatest love_, sat there and asked for her to tell the truth.

And Maria could never say no to her.

Saying no Rachel Berry was against her fucking nature.

But Maria couldn't say it.

Fuck no, she couldn't speak the words. Couldn't give voice to her sins.

But she _could_ act on them.

_God_ was she good at making those mistakes.

So her quivering fingers lifted to caress Rachel's cheeks, whispering against the soft skin before coming to rest on Rachel's cheekbones.

Maria drew herself up from the pillows, till her lips were mere inches away from Rachel's. She could feel Rachel stiffen against her touch, brown eyes wide and confused as Maria smiled ever so slightly.

"_Rachel,"_ she whispered, reveling in the tremor that seemed to shake her friend's petite frame.

And before Rachel could escape, could _think_ of moving, Maria pressed her lips against hers in a chaste kiss.

The guitarist stiffened, fighting to push Maria away from her. Her mouth remained unmoving against Maria's, her hands coming to rest against Maria's stomach as she gave her friend a shove.

Maria pulled back the slightest bit, eyes glazed over from the alcohol and the kiss, chest heaving as she fought her way back to Rachel's lips. "Gods Rachel… _Please_, just give me this… just for a little while." Her fingers played through chocolate brown locks as hazy blues looked desperately to dark, confused russet eyes.

"Please, Rachel."

'_Please just give me something.'_

Rachel studied Maria for a moment, taking in the desperate light in her friend's features before leaning forward, giving a slight nod as Maria captured her lips once more.

Maria groaned as Rachel began to respond to the kiss in kind before burying her fingers once more through soft, dark hair.

'_Please __**love**__ me for just this moment.'_

_God_, kissing a girl… kissing _Rachel_ was so much different than kissing a boy.

Boys were rough. Their stubble scratched against Maria's chin and left her skin feeling chafed, and their lips were often chapped and rough against hers. Men's bodies were _hard_ and unyielding, all harsh lines and sharpness with the crease of their muscles and the severe angles of their jaws.

But girls… _Rachel _was all soft curves and tight muscle. Rachel's skin was smooth and easy to touch, the gentle press of her jaw a pleasure rather than a hazard. Her lips softer, fuller, and _definitely_ more pleasant.

And _God_, when Rachel hesitantly allowed Maria into her mouth and started using her _tongue_ (_God_, where had Rachel _learned_ half the things she did with it?), Maria knew it definitely didn't hurt that Rachel was a good deal more experienced a kisser than most of her flings and boy toys in the past.

She could have this, she could have Rachel.

Her right hand fell from Rachel's cheek and traveled down a strong chest and torso to lift her friend's shirt, feeling the warmth radiate from tanned skin beneath.

Maria let her hand play against Rachel's abs.

She could have Rachel just for tonight.

Just as her hand crept further up Rachel's stomach, a strong hand prevented her own from wandering any further.

Soft lips disengaged fromMaria's as the hand was pulled from underneath Rachel's shirt.

The warmth of Rachel's body left Maria's as Rachel quickly pulled away, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten out the mussed strands.

Maria broke from her reverie, a startling note of sobriety sounding in her ear as her eyes fell to Rachel's kiss swollen lips.

God, what had she _done_?

Tears sprung fresh in her throat before she processed further. '_I ruined __**everything**_**.'**

She ruined their friendship.

Dry sobs plagued her throat and left her mouth before she could regain control of her emotions. She buried her face in her hands, attempting to hide her tears and her shame.

She fucked everything up.

"Maria?" Rachel's voice sounded worried and far away. "M… Oh, Maria, it's alright."

"No, Rach," Maria pulled her hands away from her face and shook her head, shoulders shaking. "No, it's not. I've gone and fucked everything up."

"Messed up?" Rachel questioned softly, reaching out. "What've you messed up? Everything's-."

"Ruined!" Maria pushed at Rachel's hands. "I've gone and fucked up our friendship because I-I'm… I f-feel… I feel the way I _should_ feel for men about _women_ too…

"I'm a _terrible_ Catholic because I can't control my fucking urges," Maria chuckled bitterly, "and I'm pretty sure we're not friends anymore and that I'm going to Hell for all this fucking shit."

Rachel shook her head, laughing sadly. "Oh Maria… No, that's not right at _all_. I'm still here, I'm still your friend-."

"For now," Maria interjected. "Just for now, Rachel. But when we leave this fucking room tomorrow, we won't be, because I have a disgusting crush on you... and you're just so nice…"

"Maria, you're not disgusting at _all_. I could _never_ think that about you," Rachel shook her head. "And what you're feeling… it isn't a sin and it isn't wrong at all. How could anything as beautiful as _love_ be wrong?"

"Because it's not supposed to be right," Maria whimpered, wrapping her arms about herself. "I-I can take someone else being this way Rachel… but _never_ me. Not me."

"Maria, listen to me," she reached out slowly, taking Maria's hand in her own once more. "My Dad… you know, Leroy… He always used to tell me that a sin was evil that harmed others. Killing, murdering, stealing, raping, adultery… those are all sins.

"But there _is_ nothing wrong with love. God made love to be one of the most beautiful things in this miserable place. He made love to compensate for all the evil things that are here on this earth, because love redeems those little evils and makes them right again," Rachel lifted a soft hand to Maria's cheek, wiping away her tears with a soft smile. "Love… attraction… those are forces that not a thing on this damned Earth can control. God made it so. And that love is the same, whether it's between two men and two women, or between a man and a woman.

"I refuse to believe a God that created something as wonderful as love," Rachel squeezed Maria's hand, "would damn those that he created _to_ love just because he made love so _strong_ and _unstoppable_."

She smiled. "There is no sin in loving. There's only sin in denying it. God doesn't damn those that help others and love well and you, Maria Arioso," a slight finger jabbed the Italian in the chest, "you do both of those things _so_ well."

Maria let out a tearful laugh. "And… what about us?"

"We'll be fine, Maria," Rachel smiled softly. "You're still my best friend. Nothing about that has changed. Nothing about that ever _will_. If I let something as petty as sexuality get in the way of being friends with someone, what kind of human being am I?"

"A fucking lousy one," Maria laughed tearfully. She grinned broadly before throwing her arms about Rachel, heart warming as she felt Rachel reciprocate just as gladly.

Rachel Berry had such a _kind _heart.

Who the fuck else could look over so many things? Could make things that once seemed so wrong feel so right?

Could make her sins disappear with slow, soft reassurances in that soothing, song of a voice.

"So we're alright?" she whispered. She had to make sure that nothing would change.

She felt Rachel nod into her shoulder.

"Of course we are, M," Rachel's voice softened. "Of course we are."

Tears welled up once more in soft blue eyes as Maria chuckled slightly.

God, it stung to know that all she would be was a friend.

But God, did it feel good to know that she wouldn't _lose_ that privilege.

She buried her face in Rachel's shoulder, taking in the spicy scent of vanilla and cinnamon once more.

As a friend, Maria would make sure that Rachel wouldn't settle for anything less than the best. If she wouldn't be the one to take care of Rachel, then she'd make goddamned sure the person who _did_ have Rachel would be the best possible person for the job.

Because Rachel Berry had been hurt _so _many times before. By her fathers, by those boys, and by the idiots at school who played their juvenile little games.

Rachel wouldn't suffer any other idiots, Maria vowed.

Because Rachel could do _so much better_.

Maria was sure of it.

A year later, Maria Arioso smirked as she stood before New Directions, hands on her hips and blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

The instant she'd seen Rachel in the camera lens, brown eyes circled in darkness and frustration pouring through the screen, Maria resolved to help do whatever needed to be done to make sure that Nude Infect… _New Directions_, win their first competition.

She hadn't thought much about anything before she bought a last minute flight to Lima, Ohio and found herself sitting through two flights just to make good on her promise.

Now here she was, standing before a ragtag group of supposed singers made up of all McKinley High's caste levels. All were represented, from the bitchiest of cheerleaders (like that Santa…. Santa an… San... _bitchy_ San-na-tah-ah-nah girl) to the stupidest jocks (she had to admit that the faux-hawked giant with the gassy smile kind of made her feel ill), to the geekiest losers (all the rest).

Maria would make something of them. They obviously had potential, she reasoned, or else they wouldn't have made it through the last year, despite their semi hokey pokey-ish performance of Journey at Regionals.

Still, she saw nothing _special_, nothing _intriguing_ about anyone in this group of misfits. She prodded the group in the side alittle and got a predictable reaction that she'd expect of a cheerleader from Ms. my-name-sounds-like-a-taco-shop in the back row.

What a boring bunch.

At least, that'd been what she thought before she set eyes on the blonde sitting beside Rachel.

She was a pretty thing, with high cheekbones and handsomely chiseled features covered over in skin the lightest alabaster. Gold hair was pulled back into a high, almost severe ponytail that kept stray locks from falling into the most _beautiful_ pair of hazel eyes Maria'd ever seen in her life.

The more Maria conversed with Rachel, those eyes shifted in color. They fell from hues of burning amber and molten gold to emerald and the softest of greens.

_Quinn Fabray_. She'd heard Rachel mention the name ritually. The cheerleader with the unforgettable eyes and a certain penchant for staring a little too long and hard at Rachel.

The eyes that made memories return.

So Maria decided to take a closer study of Quinn Fabray. Play with her a little bit. Test her intentions.

And every word that left Quinn's mouth, every jealous glance, slight snarl, and possessive gesture… every warm smile, lingering glance, and longing curve to full, red lips told Maria one thing…

Quinn was in love with Rachel.

There was nothing else to it.

Because Maria knew. Maria understood…

Maria had _been_ Quinn a year ago. She was _still _Quinn.

They were one in the same. Pining, longing after something so close yet so far. Something right within reach, yet a shore's length away.

They were the same…

…Yet they weren't.

Because Rachel hadn't given any response to Maria's attentions.

But she had given Quinn something.

Something in the hesitance in her smiles, the guarded yet soft look in those melancholy eyes, and in the relaxed fall of Rachel's shoulders.

Quinn had something more to offer Rachel that Maria couldn't give her, and Rachel (whether she knew it or not) seemed to respond to that.

And so Maria stepped back and allowed it to happen. Allowed Quinn to have her chance while Maria would have none.

Because Rachel deserved someone better. _Needed_ someone to lean on, to love, and to understand her.

Maria couldn't give her that. She never could.

But maybe, just maybe, Quinn Fabray could.

* * *

**A/N: **So, how was it? Let the author know through a little message in that box down there that's all empty, waiting for a comment... (hint hint) :) Thanks so much for reading :)

Want to follow Maria? You'll find her Tumblr page link on my profile :)

Want to follow me? You'll find my tumblr page link on my profile too :)


End file.
